


The Lure

by misssowinski



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Korcari Wilds (Dragon Age), Lesbian Sex, Murder, Plot Twists, Slow Burn, inspired by the handmaiden
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misssowinski/pseuds/misssowinski
Summary: Leliana, an Orlesian spy under Marjolaine, was hired by a nobleman named Gaspard de Chalons to be the handmaiden of Lady Morrigan, the daughter of the feared Witch of the Wilds who lived in a mansion hidden in Korcari Wilds. Her job was to convince the cold-hearted lady to marry him, while he was planning to steal her inheritance, which was her mother's special grimoire that kept ancient, forbidden rituals, and sell it to a Tevinter magister in exchange for enormous wealth.
Relationships: Leliana/Morrigan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 29





	1. Pt. I - Leliana: The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rowanguerrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowanguerrin/gifts), [writeskatelive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeskatelive/gifts).



> I initially planned to create an OC to be the equivalent of Count Fujiwara from the movie until I was reminded of Gaspard de Chalons. To be honest, I haven't touched Dragon Age: Inquisition, where the character appears. Therefore, I want to apologize if his characterization is rather inaccurate because he is rather a replacement device for me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic.

The trees were casting a shadow on a car heading to a mansion hidden in the Korcari Wilds. Headlights were shining on the small path, which the vehicle had no choice but to follow. Or else, ahead of them would be enveloping darkness where danger was lurking to consume the passengers inside.

Sitting on the passengers’ seat was Leliana. She had been asleep throughout the journey, which had taken her almost a month from Orlais, not realizing that the car was not far from the gate. When the driver stepped on the brake, she was awakened. She immediately placed her book inside her luggage, thinking that the arrival would be soon.

“Sleep, child. The mansion is still far from our sight.” said the driver as the gate was opened. And the car started moving again.

She couldn’t sleep throughout the rest of the destination. Her eyes were watching for a sign of life or oddness through the window, but all she could see was the leaves swayed by the wind, falling on the ground.

Then, behind the bark of one of the trees, she saw a shadowy figure of a person. She squinted her eyes. She felt an ominous sense that she was being watched.

“Is it only my eyes or not that I saw a shadow behind that tree?” she asked.

However, the driver was dead silent. She figured that there must be a grave secret here. As it was being passed behind while she kept observing, there seemed to be nothing. Nothing at all. There were none.

 _“Such an odd sight. I must have been very tired.”_ she thought.

The shadow had transformed into a raven that was hanging on the branch. Its golden eyes studied where the vehicle went. Then, it hopped to fly with a cry, which was caught by Leliana’s ears. Leliana looked up and spotted it sailing the night sky fast under the pale moonlight. Toward the opened window of the mansion’s second floor. 

* * *

Three months ago, a meeting was set in a private, old office by Marjolaine where many Orlesian spies under her were present. Among them was Leliana herself who was swaying to lounge music from the vinyl, drinking a small cup of ale at Marjolaine’s side.

From her mentor, her employer who was also her lover, she had heard that they were called to meet a nobleman who could promise a large fortune in exchange for a service. Marjolaine had promised that he would arrive soon. They waited and waited while chattering, enjoying some drinks for half an hour. They seemed friendly toward each other, but Leliana knew better that such friendliness was a façade. These people were trained to deceive and slither their knife into each other from behind.

The smiles, chuckles, giggles, and laughs faded out when the expected, special guest entered. That was the moment when people stopped their activities, became silent to stand up and welcome him.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Gaspard de Chalons.” greeted Marjolaine.

He simply acknowledged her and others with a nod. Only a nod. No spoken words after such lateness. He tidied his white suits seemingly unimpressed. He began to walk around to study the room with his mouth shut, while others were watching him, feeling tense and prepared to contain him if he was going to cause any ‘inconvenience’.

“Pardon that this place might be too shabby for your taste. Is there anything I can do?” asked Marjolaine, only for awkwardness to gut her in the core. There was barely a reply much to her wounded pride.

She glared at him in frustrating disbelief over such disrespect, disguised by a forced, tight smile. He strode toward one of her female subordinates to slip out a clip from her hair without any word for permission. When he walked past Leliana, slightly annoyed with his arrogance, she slipped her hand into his jacket’s pocket and retrieved a pair of emerald earrings. He didn’t seem to notice or maybe even care. Maybe, he was that dense, too occupied by his high perception of himself.

He headed toward a desk. Using the hairpin, he unlocked one of the drawers to take out a scroll. He let it roll down near his leather shoes, revealing a painting of a mansion in the midst of a forest, forged by his artistic hands, and cleared his throat to draw attention.

“I apologize I don’t talk sooner. I was prioritizing my own safety here first. We can begin now.” 

A pause.

“As you can see, this my painting. It isn’t shabby, is it? But could have done more service to the beauty of the place I painted. The Korcari Wilds of Ferelden."

His gaze seemed to admire his own work with pride. Perhaps, he was a little too in love.

“And the treasure hidden.”

He circled his finger, then, he tapped on the picture of the mansion.

“Here lies the abyss where the knowledge of magic before the formation of Circle of Magi is kept. Very ancient and prohibited, but I trust that none of us here truly care about the Chantry’s rules.”

“And our plan is to retrieve and sell it to the highest bidder in Tevinter.” announced Gaspard, sounding highly confident that he could convince a fool that his plan was a brilliant one.

“Tevinter? Oh, you’re planning to sell it to one of the magisters. That’s abhorrent.” blurted out Leliana.

Judgemental eyes from others were drawn upon her. She furrowed her eyebrows at them, confused why she couldn’t point out that slavery was immoral. Being a spy wasn’t equal to abandoning morals, so she believed.

“Sweet dear, you’re aware of the business we have been having here.” mocked Marjolaine, shaking her head, followed by a cynical chuckle.

“I’m not going to help you. You shall be ashamed of this plan. Dealing with a slaver.” refused Leliana.

A smug smirk was planted on Gaspard’s face. He didn’t appear offended the slightest by her cutting words. When he walked toward her, a brief thought of wrecking his balls with her hand like she always did toward many drunken, harassing men in the bar flashed in her head. She did not wish to share her space with a person who dealt with slavers, but he lifted her chin up with his fingers as if she was a doll to toy with.

“So, you must be Leliana. I’ve heard so much about you. Your reputation as a spy has proceeded you. Such a beautiful lady. Your master was not lying to me.”

She glanced at Marjolaine and scowled in bitter distaste. Her nose flared, fuming at the condescension on his visage.

“Your reputation has proceeded you as well. A man without respect and honor.” she shot back.

“An advice, morals don't truly belong here. I abhor slavery absolutely, but sovereigns are sovereigns. A job is a job. And yours happens to need detachment from your personal feelings."

He released her and turned around to face his ‘audience’.

“Without gold, I wouldn’t have been what the Fereldens know as Count Gaspard de Chalons.”

“However, lady, I applaud your bravery. The earrings you stole are yours as a gift.”

So, he knew.

“Let us not derive from my main point. To retrieve such power will be a challenge. Why? Because the owner is Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds herself.”

The reveal was responded by gasps of the people inside, while Gaspard remained nonchalant. Leliana widened her eyes, not believing a single word of gibberish the man said.

“The Witch of the Wilds? Are you insane? She’s going to turn us into toads!” exclaimed one of the spies.

“To succeed as I do, a risk has to be taken. In fact, I’ve acquainted with the Witch herself. She’s impressed by my craft of replicating things, including spell books.” he seated himself on the office chair with his legs widespread, sick of standing and walking around. He lit his cigar, began to smoke.

“There is one way to obtain that forbidden magic.”

“I’m planning to win the heart of Flemeth’s daughter. She is beautiful and young. Lady Morrigan, such a remarkable name, isn’t it?”

“After me, a charming, wealthy, Orlesian count has successfully seduced her, I’m marrying her to gain her inheritance, which is her mother’s grimoire. Then, I’ll lock her up in the Circle, head to the Imperium for a mountain of fortune a simple person can’t imagine.”

“Once I’m back in Orlais, glory will await me and the brave soul who’s going work for me by Empress Celene’s dining table.”

A pause. The nobleman continued smoking.

“I require one of you to pose as the personal handmaiden to Flemeth’s daughter, the lady of the house. Your job is to convince her to fall in love with me. The rest is my own doing.”

Leliana grimaced.

_“What? What kind of understanding of love does this bastard have?”_

“Pick me, pick me! I worked in Ferelden once, and I could handle the chores!” exclaimed a woman who raised her hand in excitement. She sounded naive, inexperienced and seemingly desperate for money. The Count shook his head with his palm rubbing his temple at her obvious lack of discretion. He ignored her, indulging the cigar between his lips instead.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm.”

“The sad news is, I’ve handpicked Lady Leliana”

And the players began dealing with dangerous odds. Leliana had gone through many ordeals caused by missions in her life, but this was possibly the worst gamble ever made.

* * *

For almost two months prior to the start of her mission, Leliana was forced to master Ferelden’s accent. She chopped her beloved, long hair and wore a worn-out, old maid dress instead of her favorite lacy dresses. All efforts to make her resemble a peasant girl to avoid suspicion instead of a spy who loved to indulge herself in luxury, following that bastard’s order. Every time she was losing interest, Marjolaine would remind her of the honeymoon she had promised if she executed her goals in success. And she couldn’t say no.

Now, here she was. When she stepped out of the car, she was welcomed and escorted by an elderly maid who had been waiting for the new handmaiden’s arrival since dinner inside.

The mansion was surprisingly not shabby compared to the ones owned by wealthy Orlesians, but it felt more sinister as expected from an apostate’s house. The air indoor were chill instead of warm. There was no lighting except for the moon outside and the lantern in the maid’s grip. Animals’ leather, furs, heads, and horns from the wilds decorated the walls and floor, which made Leliana wonder whether to obtain them, the witches did the hunting, cutting and skinning. She could imagine blood dripping from the deer’s severed head when she saw it plastered on the wall by the stairs. And the windows’, doors’ and pictures’ frames, and furniture were made of carved ebony, giving the place gothic edges.

The building consisted of two wings—the western wing where the maids were resting and the eastern wing where Flemeth and the Lady were staying, explained the maid in a quiet voice as everyone had fallen asleep. She led the new handmaiden to the east, telling her that she wouldn’t be resting with other maids while passing some doors. One of them belonged to Flemeth’s. The maid insisted that as long as nobody caused the mistress any trouble, nobody would be harmed. They stopped by Leliana’s new bed behind a sliding door, located in front of her Lady’s chamber door. Leliana was surprised by the fact that there was no actual room for her, even a small one.

Once the maid had permitted herself to leave, a long, tired breath escaped her nose, she put down her luggage on the wooden floor and climbed on the bed quietly to sleep. But her mind was too restless for her to shut her eyes. She had been staring at the door, oddly holding onto the expectation that the lady would step out anytime soon. She couldn’t decide whether her stomach was churning due to hunger or anxiety. Both felt the same to her.

All she could think was what tomorrow had on the table. How would her first encounter with her new lady go? How demanding would her tasks be? However, the most crucial question was, “Would she be able to convince her into marrying that bastard?” even when she hadn't met her yet.

If she succeeded, she would pity the poor woman.


	2. Pt. I - Leliana: The Meeting

Leliana’s new day began with knocks on the sliding door of her bed, which disrupted her sleep. Much to her annoyance, she persisted on sleeping. She rolled her body to the wall and covered her head with the sheet to fade the noise, hoping that they would leave soon. But the effort was futile. The head of maids from last night yanked the door open. It jolted her to rise with a gasp escaping under her breath.

“I apologise, headmistress. How tardy of me to not notice that you’ve been knocking!”

“Good morning, Miss Leliana. I hope you’re well-rested enough and ready for your first day.” greeted the old woman whose lips looked struggling to stretch for a smile. She sounded stricter than how Leliana remembered. Perhaps, she was a little annoyed, mildly pressing her authority. And Leliana couldn’t blame her. The list of chores was always the longest in the morning, which would end once the night had fallen.

“Come. You need to be properly clean and eat your breakfast before you meet the lady.”

Leliana slipped out the bed and followed her, swearing to herself to not make herself to appear tardy again. She didn’t seek to be a burden. Being new didn’t excuse a lack of professionalism.

* * *

Once she had cleaned herself, she was placed among the maids in the dining hall of the eastern wing. Her first meal in the mansion was a slice of Fereldan bread, which its surface was spread by butter, topped by a slice of cheese. It couldn’t be denied that it felt odd to be surrounded by peasant girls, even blending in as one despite her experience as a spy. All because she was raised by an Orlesian noblewoman who taught her about nobility.

She observed how other maids ate with their hands. Usually, such a manner would have been a disgrace in the court. She remembered how when she was newly brought by Lady Cecille as a child, she was immediately scolded for picking up food that way. You had to learn proper table etiquette. A strong, yet relaxed grip on a fork and a knife. Now, she had to copy behaviour that would have been sneered at.

The taste of Fereldan bread was not as impressive as Orlesian one, she noted once she took a bite. Due to the long trip to the Kocari Wilds that took months, she had started missing Orlais. The clothes, shoes, and jewellery she fancied from her favourite designers. The sweet, floral perfumery swaying in the air. And the beautiful voices and sparkling performances of lounge singers in the venues downtown she liked to listen to and watch. Most of all, she yearned to be at Marjolaine’s side again.

Although considering Gaspard’s goal, it would be quite impossible. You couldn’t just convince someone to fall in love with and marry someone. No matter how many fancy words were uttered unless a necessity or benefits existed to be sowed from the marriage. There must be cracks bound to be discovered. 

After the breakfast time was over, and the maids had been sent to their tasks, Leliana discovered that her slippers, which she brought from Orlais, had gone missing from the top tier of the maids’ shoe rack. Perhaps, someone had put it somewhere else. That time, she had been called to meet the Lady. She had intended to present herself as best as she could. She checked each row but found no presence of them. A long sigh escaped her nose. She should give up to not waste more of the Lady’s time.

Behind her were two maids who had been spying on her. They silently giggled at the sight of her desperately searching for her footwear. What a naïve, foolish girl! She must be a poor case of a rich woman who was swayed by great misfortune. Now, she would be at Lady Morrigan’s mercy.

* * *

“I apologise to have kept you waiting!” bowed Leliana at the Lady in front of her.

When she finally raised her chin, then her back, and had a clearer look of the Lady, she was almost at the brink of gasping in admiration.

_"Gaspard never told me that the lady is this beautiful!”_

The Lady was standing by the window. Her hair was as dark as the ebony that had been casting all over the mansion, and her skin was as pale as the porcelain vases in the room. Her set of eyes were shiny golden. They reminded her of gold jewelleries she stole from many men or that were gifted to her. Her eyelids were painted in dark purple. The colour made her orbs more piercing that could cut anyone who dared to stare at her. She was one of the most stunning ladies Leliana had ever laid her eyes on.

But her clothes were rather simple. Too simple to match her exquisite beauty. Maybe, simplicity was the key to Fereldan fashion. She was wearing a maroon silk shirt, paired with high-waisted, black pants and a leather belt clutching tight around her waist. And her neck was circled by a necklace made of animal teeth.

“So tis’ my new handmaid.” said the Lady, seemingly unimpressed with the recommendation letter in her grasp. She glanced at the head of the maids while circling behind Leliana.

“Take your leave. I prefer us to be left alone.”

The old maid quietly left the room.

Morrigan crashed herself on the couch nearby. Her fingers were pressing her temple, faking a headache before she shoved the letter at Leliana.

“Read it out loud, if you please. I’m exhausted with reading.”

Leliana almost furrowed her eyebrows and scowled. The Lady seemed to be such a spoiled, young woman who must have things served for her. But she decided to save her judgment for later. She removed the paper from Morrigan’s hand and squinted at the letter, which was written by the Count. When she read the first sentences, silently preparing, she tried to contain her grimace as she could recall his voice in her head.

A click of reminder passed her mind before she started reading it out loud. She was a peasant, Fereldan girl, not an Orlesian spy. She must not lose the accent she had spent months perfecting throughout her reading. Her chest rose, taking in a heavy breath.

“Dear Lady Morrigan. I’ve heard that you are in great need of a new handmaid. A lady without her handmaid is like a fork without its knife.”

During the middle part, she stole some glances to observe the Lady. She looked uninterested, bored even. The flowers in the vase next to her seemed to hold her interest more that she had been brushing the petals with her finger. What was the point of reading each word out loud if she was barely listening? But, against her frustration, she had no choice but to finish it.

When she was done, Leliana folded and was about to return the letter, but Morrigan ignored it. A different thing had apparently caught the Lady’s attention.

“Where are your bloody slippers?”

The Lady was staring at her feet.

She struggled to find an answer.

Morrigan sighed and rose from her seat, reaching one of her drawers.

“Never mind. I’ll tell the mistress that you’re in need of a new pair. Do not lose them again. We won’t provide another spare. Tis disrespectful to go barefoot in this household.”

“Come. Help me open this drawer.”

Leliana pulled a tier open. Morrigan shook her head, so she continued opening and closing another tier until the wanted pair of gloves was found. The black, lace gloves fitted the Lady’s hands beautifully and matched her other pieces of clothing. Leliana’s smile of approval was noticed.

After a second of thoughts, Morrigan decided to open another drawer where her collection of shoes was kept.

“Choose.” she ordered much to Leliana’s surprise.

“What?”

“Do you need footwear or not? You can’t stay barefoot for hours until the mistress provides you with a new pair of slippers.”

There was no way she could refuse such an offer. Morrigan was right. Hastily, she grabbed a pair of brown, flat shoes. As she slid in her feet, she discovered that both women shared the same size more or less.

Morrigan strutted toward the door.

“Thank you, my lady. I owe you great gratitude. I swear that I’ll serve you as best as I can.”

“Well, do not ever lose them again. They were my precious shoes. Now, I’m resorting to my study. Do not disturb me until five. Twas when I shall start preparing for dinner.”

* * *

When the night had fallen with all work having been taken care of, Leliana was lying on her side. She was reflecting about the day. From when she was awakened by the head of maids to her first meeting with Lady Morrigan.

While she couldn’t deny she was enamoured by her beauty, her mind was snared by the moment when she was given her own pair of shoes. She wondered whether, beneath the cold, tough exterior, there was a woman who was softer and kinder than she let on. Maybe, the Count had come upon the same realisation, and he was willing to exploit that for profits.

But, a part of her was touched by the little act of kindness she had greatly missed. It felt that it had been a long time since the last time she sensed genuineness from someone. Although, she could be wrong. With her baggage of experience from the espionage life, it was difficult to tell.

As more seconds passed, she was slowly drifting into sleep. The last thing she heard before she was completely out was a sound of raven from outside. The same sound she heard when she was arriving yesterday.

Somehow, it comforted her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long update! I've been very busy with uni stuff. Finally, I got a chance to finish the second chapter! Thank you for the wait! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, thank you @Fortheoneatopthecity for beta-reading this!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write this fic for almost half a year due to my obsession with Morrigan x Leliana and The Handmaiden (2016, directed by Park Chan Wook), which is my ultimate #1 movie as it has impacted my life greatly. However, I met a lot of self-doubt, afraid to not be able to do the movie's story justice.
> 
> Therefore, I'm forever grateful that I have received friends' support for me and my writing. 
> 
> I love you all.


End file.
